Aftermath
by Mistress Arion
Summary: In the aftermath of Voldemort's death, new relationships are formed. This is a AD/SS and MMc/HG story, if those pairings squick you- DON'T READ IT. WARNING: SLASH ALERT.
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1 - It's the end of the world as we know it.  
"Avada Kedavra!" The words of the Unforgivable curse rang out over and over from Death Eater throats across the courtyard.  
  
Minerva McGonagall ducked as a bolt of green light felled the Auror to her left. A pall of smoke hung over her head, rolling in waves from the burning towers of Hogwarts.  
  
"Minerva, here!" called Xiomara Hooch, from behind a stone pillar, "Quick now, they've got your range!"  
  
In a flash Minerva transformed into a tabby cat, and dashed for the safety of the stone.   
  
Twenty meters, ten - almost there -   
  
A black robed form appeared suddenly, directly in her path. She swerved to avoid the pointing wand but it was too late.  
  
"Crucio," said the masked Death Eater softly.  
  
Minerva writhed and yowled as the Cruciatus Curse boiled along her nerves. After a few moments she fainted.  
Voices.   
  
There were voices.  
  
McGonagall opened bleary eyes and tried to focus. She found with dismay that she seemed to be bound upright in a chair.  
  
"Ah, Professor McGonagall, how good of you to join us." A hand seized her chin and jerked her face upward. She winced as her glasses were placed none too gently on her nose.  
  
She was facing a stone wall.  
  
"Don't look so terrified Minerva," said a voice at her side, "After all, your friends are here with you." A black robed figure stepped in front of her, and she recoiled in disgust from the pale face and slitted eyes.  
  
Voldemort.  
  
"Would you like to see them?" asked the Dark Wizard.  
  
McGonagall flinched as fingers seized her shoulder and spun the chair on its legs.  
  
"A rather sad little batch of rebels you were, don't you agree Professor?" hissed Voldemort.  
  
"Oh Albus," said Minerva, quietly. "Not you."  
  
Directly before her, Albus Dumbledore sat, bound tightly to his own chair. Blood streaked his white hair and beard, and he looked oddly like the Muggle legend of Father Christmas. Several empty chairs sat to his left.  
  
The old wizard tried to smile through swollen lips.  
  
"A pleasure to see you among the living Minerva," said Dumbledore.  
  
"I'm glad you feel it is still a pleasure Albus," said Voldemort. "But I believe that feeling will change." He smiled triumphantly, "You have lost."  
  
"The battle for Hogwarts still rages," said Dumbledore firmly.   
  
"The pawns still fight, indeed," sneered Voldemort, "but I have captured the King and Queen, the Knights, and what is more important - " He strode to the door and threw it open, gesturing to someone in the hall beyond.  
  
" - The mudbloods' messiah."  
  
There was a clatter as several Death Eaters entered the room, dragging the battered and unconscious forms of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley.   
  
The children were dumped in a heap in the center of the floor.  
  
"Tell me, Albus," said Voldemort, "Do you still believe you will win, when word goes out even now that the famous Harry Potter has fallen at the side of his professors and friends?"  
  
Dumbledore closed his eyes and said nothing.  
  
"The Aurors will not stop until they find us," spat McGonagall.  
  
"Ah, your famous Aurors," said Voldemort pleasantly, turning to face the dark haired witch.   
"Led for this final clash by the Unspeakables, the best of the best - " He trailed off with a cold smile and walked swiftly to the door.   
  
"Let's see one of them then."   
  
With a jerk he opened the heavy oak slab and motioned to someone outside.With his attention on the hall, McGonagall tried desperately to return to her Animagus form and dash for the open door. Despite her repeated attempts, she remained distressingly human.  
  
"I believe you are familiar with Xiomara," said Voldemort. He stepped aside as two Death Eaters propelled a staggering Madam Hooch into the room.  
  
The Quidditch mistress walked uncertainly, nearly tripping over her own feet several times as the masked wizards shoved her toward a chair. Once seated, she was secured firmly with a wave of Voldemort's wand. She stared vacantly about; her golden hawk's eyes ringed with purple-black bruising and her nose a flattened disaster.  
  
Minerva gasped as Voldemort seized the other woman's right sleeve and tore it away, exposing the entire upper arm.  
  
There, from shoulder to elbow, was the mark of an Unspeakable- an inverted crimson question mark burned into the flesh.  
  
"Fool," sneered Voldemort, shaking his head at McGonagall's expression. "Did you never wonder why a retired world champion Quidditch Beater would be forced to seek employment as a coach of children?" He wound his fingers though Hooch's short hair and pulled, meeting her vacant eyes with his own.  
  
"Xiomara could have had a coaching position with any team in the world, couldn't you my dear?"  
Madam Hooch muttered incoherently and the Dark Lord released her head with a shove.  
  
"If only she hadn't been assigned to Hogwarts by the Ministry, waiting for the day that a certain boy arrived. Waiting to protect him." Voldemort laughed roughly and knelt to face the half-conscious woman.  
  
"Well, the day has come and YOU HAVE FAILED!" shouted the Dark Lord. "All of your plans, your wards, your schemes have come to nothing! Dumbledore has been toppled, the boy is mine!"  
  
Hooch recoiled instinctively in her seat, trying to turn her face as the wizard raised his voice.  
  
"You are all mine," whispered Voldemort.  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. "And what do you plan to do with us, Tom? Kill us to prove that you have indeed won?"  
  
"Do not use that filthy muggle name!" said Voldemort. In two steps he reached the old wizard's side and slapped him across the face.   
  
"Tom Riddle is as dead as the mudblood who gave him life," said Voldemort. "But I do not plan to kill any of you, even if you beg me, on your knees."  
  
Dumbledore sat silently, blinking as a trickle of blood meandered from his split lower lip.  
  
"Why keep us then?" asked Minerva. "Why not just kill us while you have the chance?"  
  
"Vengeance," said Voldemort.   
  
"And that will make it all right then?" said McGonagall. "We are tortured, like a boy pulling the wings off flies, and everyone will just queue up to follow you? I think you overestimate your own popularity," the elderly witch sniffed.  
  
Lord Voldemort chuckled. "Ah, Minerva, still the wit." The Dark wizard ran his fingers slowly across the woman's neck.  
  
"Did you know how much I hated you, even in school?" said Voldemort. "Bloody noble-minded Gryffindor bitch." With a cruel twitch of his hand he pulled McGonagall's hair from it's long pins.  
  
Minerva shivered as the mass of dark curls cascaded down her back.  
  
"You pitied me, and I loathed you for that," said Voldemort, idly toying with a long lock of hair.  
  
"I never pitied you," said Minerva. "I worried for you." She shivered again as Voldemort allowed his nails to trail across her chin. He hesitated for the merest sliver of a second, then slid one hand to slowly stroke her rope-wrapped breasts.  
  
McGonagall writhed in her seat.   
  
He wouldn't do it. Even he couldn't, not in front of the children.  
  
"Please, don't - " she managed.  
  
"Oh, but I will," sneered Voldemort. "Here, with your friends and your boy savior. And do you know what?"  
  
Minerva turned her head to avoid Voldemort's slithering tongue as he lapped slowly across her face and ear.  
  
"Not one of them will be able to save you," said Voldemort softly.  
  
"It's not Minerva you hate so deeply," said Dumbledore from across the floor.  
Voldemort turned slowly, eyeing the old wizard.  
  
"Do go on," he said.  
  
"You have hated me for years," said Dumbledore, "And now you have won. I am completely in your power. Leave her alone. Here I am, do what you would to me, but leave her alone." The old wizard's face was white and drawn but his voice did not shake.  
  
"I will not fight you," he added. "I will do whatever you ask of me."  
  
"Albus, no!" said Minerva.  
  
"Would you get on your knees for me old man?" said Voldemort. "Would you be my toy?"  
  
"If that is what you asked," said Dumbledore; his voice low. "And if it meant you would not harm the others."  
  
"Ah, the famous Gryffindor nobility," said Voldemort mockingly. "While it pains me to disappoint you, I have no intention of changing my plans. I have waited far too long to let dear Professor McGonagall know my feelings." He paused for a moment, turning his head towards a sound outside the room's open door. "Never fear, Albus. You will have your turn. Alas, however, you all have to wait. I have other duties to attend to at the moment." The Dark Wizard strode for the door, but paused as he reached the open portal.  
  
"Someone will be in to tend your wounds," he said over his shoulder. "It would be a shame if any of you died of your injuries before I have had time to know you better."  
  
With a last chuckle he was gone.  
  
"I'm so sorry Minerva," said Dumbledore, "So sorry."  
  
Heavy tears spilled slowly across Professor McGonagall's cheeks.  
  
"It will be all right Albus," she said, sounding very much as if she were lying.   
  
There was a clinking sound at the doorway, and both teachers jerked. Across the room Xiomara Hooch moaned.  
  
Severus Snape entered the room, bearing a large tray loaded with potions.  
  
"Severus!" gasped Minerva.  
  
The shallow-skinned man kicked the door closed and placed the tray on the floor. Moving rapidly, he stooped to check the still unconscious children for signs of life and to drizzle fluids through their slack lips .  
  
"Severus, what - " began Dumbledore.  
  
He was abruptly silenced with an upthrust hand.  
  
"No time Albus," said Snape. "Be silent and listen." Swiftly he chose from the vials he carried and began to administer the liquids to his co-workers. Xiomara Hooch could only moan softly as the potions were dripped into her unresisting mouth.  
  
"Voldemort will return quickly," said Snape. His eyes were like coal, his face a mask of horror. "I am giving you all healing potions and skele-grow, but there is no antidote to Veritaserum, and he will surely use it."  
  
"Do we have a chance, Severus?" asked Minerva, her Scottish brogue trembling.   
  
Snape stared at her for a long minute. "If there was no hope," he said in a soft and deadly tone, "I would be giving you hemlock, and saving a final dose for myself."  
  
From deep within the recesses of his robes, Severus pulled two small vials. He held them up so   
McGonagall and Dumbledore could see.  
  
"Amataeus Syrup and Felinus Potion," said Snape, "For you Minerva."  
  
McGonagall paled. "I understand the Felinus," she whispered. "He's done something to stop me from transforming, and it will allow me to change despite whatever spell he's used." She gulped for air. "Why Amataeus?"  
  
Snape's eyes burned into her own. "Because when he returns it is you he will begin with, and I only have one dose."  
  
Minerva gagged.   
  
"If you are so injured that you can think of nothing else, what good will transformation do?" said Snape. He pushed the vials to her lips and she gulped the bitter liquids quickly.  
  
Dumbledore said thickly, "I have never seen Amataeus used, but I understand the effects. Any wounds obtained during - during - intimacy will close rapidly."  
  
Snape nodded, his gaze still locked with McGonagall's. "Protecting the drinker from serious injury during loveplay." The wizard paused, then said "Or rape."  
  
Minerva sniffed miserably as tears ran down her cheeks.  
  
Snape went on relentlessly. " But with it you will survive what he does to you. And when he is - distracted, you will change, and I will open the door. His confusion as you change will slow him, but only for a few seconds at best."  
  
Minerva looked desperately ill. "He will kill you," she said.  
  
"I will fight," said Severus, "and I will buy you time. Outside of the castle is a rubbish heap, and on top of the heap, almost totally hidden in a box, is a Muggle drinks can. It is red, with white script that reads Coca-Cola."  
  
"A port-key," said Dumbledore.  
  
"Indeed." Severus smiled tiredly. "When he told me to bring the potions, I had an idea of who this room held. I have been prepared for this for a very long time."  
  
"But where will I come out?" asked Minerva, craning her neck to wipe her face on her shoulder.  
  
"You will be at the Ministry, in the Unspeakable's debriefing room," said Severus. "Someone will await you there, arrangements were made to combat the fall of Hogwarts and the capture of Dumbledore as soon as I began this cursed spying."  
  
"I will bring help," Minerva said. She seemed to want to say more, but words did not come.  
  
"I will hold him off as long as I can," Severus said flatly, "but I'm tired, and at best you will have 10 minutes. I will free Albus and the others as you run, but even together there will not be much time." He ran his fingers through his lank hair and nodded over his shoulder. " If you are lucky, and fast, you may save the children."  
  
Minerva said, "Then everything is not lost after all."  
  
"We can fight," said a small voice from the floor.  
  
Severus Snape whirled to see Harry Potter and Hermione Granger sitting shakily upright. Ron Weasley groaned, then pulled himself slowly to join them.  
  
"Do not be a hero, Mister Potter," Snape snarled. "No matter what you see or hear. If you gain his attention at the wrong moment it will be you rather than I who dies, and wouldn't that be sad."  
  
"I would rather die fighting than to sit by while everyone else I loved was killed by that dirty coward," Harry said defiantly.   
  
Ron nodded in agreement, then bit his lip. "I'll fight too," he said with determination, "Only - only, I wish I could see my mum one last time before I - you know." His voice broke and he hid his face in Hermione's shoulder.  
  
Snape walked briskly to the children, and knelt beside the shaking red-head.  
  
"Mister Weasley," Snape said, gently turning the boy's tearstained face to his own. "I will kill you myself should you ever repeat this, but right now, I wish your mum was here." He smiled awkwardly at the child, then turned at the feel of a light tap on his shoulder.  
  
"Professor Snape," Hermione said firmly, "May I hug you?"  
  
Severus stared at her in confusion.  
  
"Miss Granger, have you taken leave of your senses?" he asked.  
  
"No Sir," she said quietly, "but since we're probably all about to be killed, I should think you would want something warm to be the last thing you felt."  
  
Severus Snape swallowed hard, then hung his head.  
  
"If you wish, Miss Granger."  
  
Hermione scooted quickly to his side, and tentatively wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulder.  
  
"We never really hated you," she whispered in his ear. "Potions was always my favorite class next to Arithromancy."  
  
Convulsively his arms came around the slender form, and the tall man buried his face in her curls.  
  
"I will not let this happen," Snape whispered, "I will not let you see this, not let it happen to you, not if I can stop him."  
  
"I know," the girl said quietly. She stroked the man's tightly clenched back and neck.   
  
Shaken, the potions master gave the girl one last squeeze before he stood.  
  
"If I am wrong," Severus said in a dead voice, "if he chooses to begin this horror with someone other than Minerva, or - " He swallowed roughly, his blind gaze fixed on the flagstones. "If he asks me to assist him, everyone must wait until I give a signal. I must have clear access to the door, and he must not be between Minerva and the opening. Do you all understand?"  
  
"It seems to be our only chance Severus," Albus said.  
  
Snape stared around the small room, his eyes lingering on each pale and battered face.  
  
"Understand, what I may have to do," he rasped.   
  
Shuddering, the potions master seized the empty flasks and vials and dashed from the room.  
  
There was a long moment of silence.  
  
"Children," Dumbledore said at last, "no matter what happens, if you have a chance to free yourselves you must go. Do not wait for us."   
  
"No Headmaster!" Harry said fiercely. A shock of hair fell over his eye and he quickly flipped it away. "We won't leave you!"  
  
"You will indeed Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall said angrily. Better herself, or Albus, than any of them. Thank Merlin they were not awake to see her cry. "If we can save the three of you, then we have not failed utterly. You better than anyone should know that you are - "  
  
Harry's squawk of protest was silenced by Hermione.  
  
"Shut up and listen!" she said urgently. "Footsteps!"  
  
"He's coming," moaned Ron.  
  
The door swung open. 


	2. Highway to Hell

Chapter 2  
  
- I'm on the highway to hell  
-ACDC  
"Ah, so sorry to keep you waiting." Voldemort smiled broadly as he entered the room carrying a tray of potions. "I believe you all have been reacquainted with Professor Snape?"  
  
Severus entered the room directly behind the Dark Lord, his hands clasped together and hidden within the folds of his flowing sleeves.  
  
"Bastard!" Ron snarled. He spat at the potions master.   
  
"You bloody traitor!" yelled Harry.   
  
Voldemort nodded. "I see they are not grateful for their healing Severus. Perhaps the next time I should not be so generous."  
  
"But My Lord, if they should die of their wounds, what pleasure in that?" Snape said softly. He took the tray from the wizard and set it on the floor.  
  
"Ah, my Severus. Always the voice of reason," said Voldemort. "May you never fail to remind me of the sensuality of running crimson and whitened flesh."  
  
"Or the beauty of a scream My Lord, tuned with precision," Snape replied gently. He gestured to the tray. "Where shall I begin?"  
  
"The Veritaserum I think," Voldemort said. "I have brought the bottle you brewed me last month, I didn't wish to chance a newer, possibly weaker, brew." He smiled viciously at the dark haired man. "Four drops each for the adults and Potter. The others can wait"  
  
"Isn't that a bit strong My - " Snape began.  
  
"Four," said Voldemort coldly. "I have questions I wish to ask, and the answers should be amusing."  
  
Minerva McGonagall winced as Severus forced the dropper into her mouth. Four drops! She would tell him anything, everything - Oh Merlin!  
  
The witch watched in horror as Severus applied the dropper to the others.  
  
Voldemort smiled.  
  
"Now," he said, "We are almost ready to begin." The wizard pushed a chair to McGonagall's side and seated himself comfortably. She shivered as a heavy hand wrapped around her ankle and slithered up her leg to rest directly above her knee. Snape sat immediately to the left, and Minerva glanced at him in desperation.  
  
Do something. Oh Severus please, don't let this happen, not in front of the children anyway -   
  
It was almost ironic that he should be the one on whom she hung her last desperate hope. As heads of rival Houses they had spent years honing their positions as bitter enemies, and yet had developed a grudging respect that bordered on friendship.  
  
"As soon as I adjust these ropes to ensure that nothing impedes my getting to know dear Minerva much, much better," Voldemort said. With a flick of his wand the thick ropes binding the witch   
shifted, moving downward to wrap her arms to her waist and her ankles to the chair legs.  
  
"Oh, and how could I forget the inestimable Mister Potter and friends." Rope shot from the tip of the wizard's wand, binding each child's wrists firmly together.  
  
"How nice," Voldemort said, "I believe we are ready."  
  
The dark wizard smiled slowly. "Albus, you shall be the first to answer my questions. And Minerva, my dear, you shall amuse me." As he spoke, his hand slid across McGonagall's back, then up to trace the contours of her cheek. The other hand moved higher on her leg. She turned her head and spat full in his face.  
  
The witch gasped as Voldemort's fingers seized her chin.  
  
"If you do anything of that nature again, my dear, the girl will take your place," the man said gently. "If that is what you'd prefer, of course, we can make the exchange right now?" He gestured meaningfully toward Hermione.  
  
"No!" McGonagall wailed, and at the same time Hermione snarled, "Fine, do it."  
  
Voldemort laughed at the shock and horror on the woman's face.  
  
"Oh Minerva," he said, "Did you not expect the fools who follow you to believe the drivel that you feed them? All about honor and suffering nobly - What a choice you've given me." He paused as if in thought. "Do I take you here, in front of them all, or do I give you the pleasure of knowing, for the rest of your miserable life, that you were spared because a child you cared for was raped and tortured in your place?"   
  
He glanced briefly at Severus Snape. "Tell me, Severus, what would you choose?"  
  
Snape appeared to consider the matter.  
  
"You have waited a very long time for this my Lord," Severus said blandly.  
  
"Fuck you both," Hermione said loudly. She stared resolutely at Voldemort, refusing to meet McGonagall's eyes.  
  
For months she had become increasingly embarrassed and confused by her growing feelings for the older witch. Now, here, the thought of someone touching her, harming her, made her feel like vomiting.  
  
Let them take her instead.  
  
The girl's stomach clenched as Voldemort's slitted eyes turned in her direction, and she rubbed her hands together convulsively.   
  
"Fuck us both, hmmmmm? Since you've asked so charmingly," Voldemort said, "I'm sure Severus could be persuaded to assist me." He stood and approached the bound child.  
  
Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed heavily.   
  
"NO," roared Albus Dumbledore. "Not the children. Not to save us, NOT THE CHILDREN!" His eyes burned with blue flame and his hands were balled into white fists. "Minerva and I will do whatever you wish but do not touch them."  
  
"You do feel rather strongly, don't you Headmaster?" Voldemort said. Wrapping his fingers in Hermione's hair, he pulled the girl to her feet and returned to his chair, dragging her along as he went.  
  
Hermione gasped with pain, but her face was determined.  
  
He seated himself comfortably beside the still-bound McGonagall, then pulled the girl onto his lap.  
  
Hermione glanced at the older witch sitting beside her; the woman had tears rolling down her cheeks.  
  
"No Hermione," McGonagall whispered under her breath, "oh no, not for me."  
  
Voldemort smiled. "Answer my questions Albus, amuse me, and I'll think about letting her go."  
  
Hermione looked sick as Voldemort's hands found her buttocks and began to stroke.  
  
"Now Albus, tell me, since it seems to bother you so much, have you ever been intimate with a student?" Voldemort asked.  
  
Severus' breath hitched slightly and a ray of hope glimmered before his eyes. The bloody bastard was going to amuse himself with prurient nonsense, rather than asking about escape tactics or battle plans. He had become overconfident.  
  
Dumbledore drew a deep breath and said scornfully, "Never!"  
  
Voldemort smiled. His hand slid down between Hermione's legs and he began to rub roughly through her robes, ignoring her taunt muscles and grimace of disgust.  
  
"Have you ever wanted to?"  
  
Severus watched in shock as the old wizard's face began to redden.  
  
"I.. I - Nnnnnno," Albus sputtered.  
  
"Give him another two drops Severus," Voldemort said, "He seems to be resisting a bit."  
  
Dumbledore closed his eyes as the dropper was forced between his lips.  
  
"Let us try again Albus. Have you ever wanted to touch a student? To touch them like this?" The wizard thrust his clenched fist against the girl's groin.  
  
Minerva watched as the Headmaster's face went from red to purple. He kept his lips clamped firmly shut, though his eyes shone with unshed tears of pain as Voldemort pumped his hand more forcefully and Hermione gasped.  
  
"Albus, whatever the answer is tell him and stop this!" she begged. "For Merlin's sake you can Obliviate all of us later."  
  
"Perhaps a bit more persuasion is needed," Voldemort said. He slid his hand beneath Hermione's robes.  
  
"No!" McGonagall shouted.  
  
The witch heard the girl's shriek, and Voldemort withdrew his hand. Blood smeared two fingers.  
  
"A pity," he said pleasantly, "She was a virgin."  
  
"You bastard," Minerva said viciously.  
  
Dumbledore slumped in his seat, eyes closed. "Yes," he said softly.  
  
"I'm afraid we all couldn't hear that," Voldemort said. "Would you repeat it?"  
  
"Yes, I have wanted to touch a student."  
  
"Who was this student?"  
  
"Put Hermione down," said Dumbledore, "and I will answer everything."  
  
"You will anyway," Voldemort said.  
  
"If you do not put her down, I will cause my heart to stop before I will answer another question."  
  
"I could use Imperious," Voldemort said.  
  
"And as you are well aware, I could resist you," Dumbledore said in a flat voice, "At least long enough to still my own heart."  
  
With a snarl, Voldemort shoved the girl from his lap. He wiped his bloody hand in McGonagall's hair and jerked his chair so that he sat behind the woman and glared over her shoulder.   
  
"Is this what you wanted?" he sneered to Dumbledore.   
  
Minerva McGonagall shuddered as the Dark Lord ripped apart her bodice and pulled the cloth open. His fingers seized her breasts and she closed her eyes as he pinched and squeezed.  
  
After a moment, Voldemort looked up.  
  
"I'm waiting," he said, "Who was the student?"  
  
"Severus Snape," said Dumbledore.  
  
There was a moment's silence, then Voldemort began to laugh.  
  
"Did you know about this, my Severus?" Voldemort asked.  
  
"No, My Lord," Snape answered, suddenly more tired than he had ever been in his life.  
  
"Do you still wish to touch him?" Voldemort inquired.  
  
Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes and sagged into his chair. He looked every one of his 147 years.  
  
"Yes," he whispered.  
  
"How delightful," Voldemort hissed. Hermione watched in horror as the wizard slid his hands further beneath McGonagall's robes and began to push the fabric toward the tops of her legs.  
  
This was not going to happen.  
  
Slowly the girl began to inch closer to the man's legs.  
  
"Surely you can make an old man's wishes come true Severus," Voldemort said.   
  
"But My Lord - " Snape began in a casual tone.  
  
"Let him touch you Severus," Voldemort said coldly. "It will amuse me."  
  
"As you wish, My Lord."  
  
Severus Snape stood, his face a waxen mask.   
  
"What do you wish to see My Lord?"  
  
Voldemort smiled. "I want to see you in his mouth, Severus. Let him choke on his dreams for me."  
  
Snape nodded and turned toward the Headmaster. His heart thudded heavily in his chest and he saw that, for the first time since he had known him, Albus Dumbledore's eyes were dull and lifeless.  
  
"Lord Voldemort?" Hermione's voice came from her almost forgotten position on the floor.  
  
Everyone in the room looked down.  
  
"Go to Hell."  
  
With a bone-rattling thump the girl slammed herself upwards against the chair, throwing it and it's occupant backwards to the floor. Voldemort's wand clattered from his sleeve and rolled across the floor.  
  
"Go!" Hermione screamed, and sank her teeth into the wizard's leg.  
  
Severus Snape lunged for the door as Minerva disappeared and a large tabby cat leapt from the heavy ropes.   
  
There was a crash and the door was open. 


	3. Escape

Chapter 3  
Hermione screamed as Voldemort rolled to the side and swung one booted foot into her stomach.   
  
"Professor Snape!" Ron Weasley shouted, "Help!"   
  
The red-head pushed himself upright against the wall and then dived, landing chest-first on the Dark Wizard's head and neck.  
  
Clutching her abdomen as tightly as she could with bound hands, Hermione glanced around the room; where was he, why wasn't he attacking Voldemort, where, where -   
  
There.  
  
Everything seemed to strobe, frozen camera pictures spaced with inky black.  
  
Click.  
  
She shook her head, unable to understand what she was seeing.  
  
Click.  
  
Ron drove his knees again and again into Voldemort's face.  
  
Click  
  
Severus lay full length on the floor beside Harry, a knife open in his right hand.  
  
Click  
  
So still - Harry was laying so still -   
  
Click  
  
"No!" Hermione screamed.  
  
Click  
  
Voldemort thrashed on the floor, trying desperately to unlock Ron's legs from around his neck so that he could reach his dropped wand.  
  
Click  
  
"Kill him Severus!" Voldemort snarled.  
  
Click  
  
Severus slashing with the blade.  
  
Click  
  
"NO, oh please Professor Snape no!" Hermione screamed.  
  
Click  
  
Ron Weasley gasped and then lay moaning as Voldemort finally gained the leverage to seize the boy and throw him into the wall.  
  
Click  
  
Her heart gave a jarring thump and then her jaw dropped in disbelief. The darkened places vanished and life ran forward in a rush.  
  
Harry Potter stood; his bonds cut through.  
  
"His wand Harry, get the wand," Severus shouted. "It's the twin to yours- you can use it!"  
  
Harry dashed across the floor, jumping to avoid Voldemort's sprawling lunge. Before the Dark Lord could rise completely Snape struck him from the side and both men went down, rolling in a tangle of arms and legs.  
  
The knife flashed and Voldemort screamed, a high and terrible sound.  
  
"Severus, his teeth, look out!" Dumbledore shouted.  
  
Severus whipped his head to the side but not quickly enough. Voldemort's fangs found his throat and sank deep.  
  
Hermione jerked as a warm splash of blood spattered her face and torso. She tried frantically to free her hands, then paused.   
  
The room felt different.  
  
Heavier.  
  
She heard Dumbledore say softly, "Harry."  
  
Harry Potter stood a few meters from the rolling men, Voldemort's wand held lightly in his hand. He looked frightened and very young.  
  
"Tom Riddle," Harry said softly. "Look at me Tom."  
  
Voldemort ripped his teeth from Snape's tattered neck and bared his fangs in a feral grin. Severus Snape moaned, then lay very still.  
  
"Give me my wand Potter," Voldemort snarled, "It is no toy for a child. Give me my wand and your death will be quick."  
  
"You're the one who has to die Tom, it has to end somewhere," Harry whispered. "Would you stand up?"  
  
"Harry, no," Dumbledore said, "Do not prolong it."  
  
"Would you stand?" Harry said again. "I've never killed anyone before."  
  
A look of confusion, almost fear, crossed Voldemort's pale face.  
  
"Give me the wand," he demanded. Slowly, too slowly, he pushed Severus Snape's bleeding body aside and began to stand.  
  
"Crucio," Harry said quietly.   
  
"NO!" Voldemort shrieked. His feet went out from under him and he fell to the floor.  
  
Walking carefully, Harry stepped to his side. He placed the wand tip on the writhing wizard's forehead.  
  
"Crucio," the boy said again.  
  
"Hermione," Dumbledore called, "Hermione!"  
  
Startled, the girl looked at the old wizard.  
  
"Get the knife quickly Hermione, and cut these ropes my dear." He strained against the ropes that held him.  
  
Hermione scrambled across the floor, darting around Harry and Voldemort.  
  
There, the knife lay beside Professor Snape.  
  
She pushed her own rope ties against the edge, using her feet to steady the blade. In a moment, she was free. Quickly, she snatched the knife from the floor, grimacing at its sheen of sticky red.  
  
"Hurry, Hermione," called Dumbledore.  
  
Hermione ran back across the floor and began to saw desperately at the rope. Another scream filled the room. Startled, she began to turn.  
  
"No! Keep cutting!" Dumbledore shouted.  
  
The ropes fell away at last, just as Harry said "Avada Kedavra."  
  
The scream stopped.  
  
Albus Dumbledore burst from his seat, almost knocking the girl to the floor.  
  
"Is he- ?" Hermione said quietly.  
  
Dumbledore came to a halt beside Harry. The boy stood frozen, wand outstretched before him.  
  
"Harry, give it to me, it's over," said Dumbledore.   
  
"Is he dead, Headmaster?" Harry said. His voice sounded strange.  
  
"Give me the wand my boy."  
  
"Is he dead?"  
  
"Voldemort is dead Harry," Dumbledore said patiently. "Now, if you would please give me - "  
  
"I meant Professor Snape, Headmaster," Harry said. "Is he dead?"  
  
Dumbledore bent to touch the still dark form of Severus Snape.  
  
"Harry, I'm sorry."  
  
Hermione began to cry.  
  
"Don't be sorry Headmaster." Harry smiled tiredly at the old man and Dumbledore stepped backward in surprise. The boy's face was - perfect. The zig zag scar had gone.  
  
The boy knelt beside the potions master.  
  
"Harry, what are you doing?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"He hasn't gone far yet."  
  
"I know that my boy, but there is no magic that will bring Severus back as he was. Do not attempt this."  
  
Harry ran a gentle hand along Snape's torn neck.  
  
"Uncle Vernon took me to church once last summer," Harry said. "When his sister told him people were starting to talk because I never went. I heard a story there."  
  
Dumbledore looked confused. "Harry, what - ?"  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, did you know that someone did raise the dead once? It was brilliant. He called to them, and they came," Harry said, "Only the man at church said he had to be careful; to call them by name, otherwise the whole graveyard would have stood up. That sounds simple enough to me." He knelt down beside Severus Snape.  
  
Hermione gasped in understanding. "Oh, Harry, no. He wasn't a wizard, that wasn't wizarding magic."  
  
Harry smiled. "Did that matter to Lazarus? He wasn't the only one you know; there was at least one more, a girl."  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore said, understanding at last, "Only one person has ever done things of that nature, and that magic has been gone for over two thousand years."  
  
"Has anyone really tried to make it return?" Harry said.  
  
The boy handed the wand to Dumbledore, who placed it quickly in his sleeve. Gently, Harry placed both hands on Snape's shoulders and rolled the man onto his back.  
  
There was a commotion at the door; six Unspeakables, followed closely by Minerva McGonagall dashed in, then froze at the scene before them.  
  
"What in the name of Merlin - " The Captain said, as Harry leaned to touch his forehead to the fallen teacher's.  
  
Harry sat up, placed his hands firmly on either side of Snape's head and roared, "SEVERUS KOUM!"  
  
A wind howled through the door, filling the room with swirling leaves and bits of castle rubbish. Hermione fought to stay upright as the rush of air focused on Harry; passed through the boy without ruffling his hair. It struck Severus Snape in the chest.  
  
Snape's body jerked.  
  
"SEVERUS KOAM!" Harry called again.  
  
The body began to seize, back arching until it seemed as if it would snap. Arms and legs beat on the stone floor.  
  
Hermione pointed, "Look!"  
  
The wound at the potions master's throat was closing, the flesh re-knitting itself.  
Harry bent down and planted a gentle kiss on Snape's thrashing forehead. "Please, Severus koum."  
  
There was a gasp, and Severus Snape began to breath.  
  
Harry looked around and blinked owlishly. "Headmaster, I want to go home," he said. Slowly, he toppled over. 


	4. Return to Hogwarts

Chapter 4  
  
The return to Hogwarts was horrid for everyone. Ron and Hermione tried not to look as they stepped over the bodies of the Death Eaters destroyed when Voldemort fell. Dead and dying Aurors lay on the grass, and Professor McGonagall began to cry as the burning towers of the school appeared in front of them.  
  
And then the celebrations began, and the rumors, and somehow that was almost more terrible.  
  
Messiah, savior, the boy who killed Voldemort.  
  
Hermione watched from her window in the hospital wing as crews worked day and night first to bury the dead and then to restore the ancient building. She watched as the banners rose again, and the courtyards filled with gawkers coming to celebrate the final fall of the enemy.  
  
The worst part was the loneliness. Harry was somewhere deep in the Ministry, with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape. She and Ron had been debriefed as soon as possible after their physical injuries were tended- a roomful of anxious Ministry officials had crowded into their sick rooms and asked question after question until Madam Pomfrey had been forced to remove them for her patients' safety. Ron left the next day, taken back to the Burrow by his parents until the school re-opened.  
  
Hermione snuffled a little as she remembered arriving back at Hogwarts itself. They had opened the doors and straggled into what remained of the Great Hall; Dumbledore carrying Harry and walking with Snape, she and Ron with McGonagall a few steps behind. Two Unspeakables carried Madam Hooch on a litter.  
  
Inside Aurors, Unspeakables, and Ministry officials mixed with teachers, parents, and students. The sounds of sobbing filled the room, as more and more names were slowly added to the lists of the dead and the injured.  
  
"RON!"   
  
Mrs. Weasley turned from where she had been comforting a wailing first year, and shrieked at the sight of her dirty, battered, but above all live, son.  
  
A moment later and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were wrapped around their son, desperately kissing and hugging the weeping boy. A crowd of shouting bodies ran to surround the small tattered group.  
  
"Molly, Arthur, we really must get the children to the hospital wing," Dumbledore called over the din.  
  
"Of course, of course," said Molly Weasley, laughing and crying all together.  
  
"Mum," Ron got out, tugging at his mother's sleeve. "Hey mum?"  
  
"What is it Ron, what do you need?" Molly said. She bent down to hear.  
  
"Would you hug Professor Snape? Please? He deserves it," Ron said.  
  
Molly Weasley looked into her son's eyes and nodded slowly. She marched to the potions master, who was leaning, forgotten, against a wall.  
  
"Severus?" Molly said.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Carefully the red-haired woman wrapped her arms around the taller man, hugging him close.  
Snape stiffened in suprise, and then sagged to his knees.  
  
"We brought them home Molly," he said, choking. "They didn't have to see."  
  
Molly knelt, and hugged the man more tightly. She wasn't sure what had happened, but her soft heart broke at the sight of the cold man she had known since childhood weeping like a child himself.  
  
"Whatever you, and the others did, you brought me back my Ron," Molly said, "And for that you will always have a place in my heart. Anyone has anything to say about you, they'll have to go through the Weasleys first."  
  
Hermione watched as Mr. Weasley went to join his wife. A moment later he too had wrapped his arms around Severus Snape.  
  
A light touch on her arm startled the girl.  
  
"What? Oh, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said.  
  
"You need to be in the hospital wing," Minerva said, "but first I must say something Miss Granger."  
  
Hermione gulped. Professor McGonagall was going to kill her.   
  
"I have never, in all my life, had someone disobey a direct order from both myself and Professor Dumbledore as blatantly as you did."  
  
The girl's breath begin to hitch and she struggled not to cry.  
  
McGonagall took Hermione's hand and squeezed. "And I have also never had anyone willing to do what you tried to do today. Why in the name of Merlin would you put yourself at risk to save me?"  
  
Hermione looked at the floor and mumbled.  
  
"Miss Granger?"  
  
Hermione looked up. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out.  
  
"We will talk about this later," Minerva said. "What you did was both incredibly brave and incredibly foolish; I would have thought you had learned better after the incident with the troll."  
  
Hermione nodded and would have said something, but at that moment Madam Pomfrey trundled down the steps and began to bark orders right and left. Before the girl could protest, she was hurried up to the hospital wing and the dreary business of healing began.  
  
She had been avoiding Minerva McGonagall ever since, unable to find an explaination that did not make her sound like a complete and utter prat.  
  
She pushed back the covers and slid her legs from the bed. She had told Madam Pomfrey that she did not want visitors, any visitors. There really wasn't anyone wanting to visit anyway, not with Ron and Harry gone.   
  
Anyone but Professor McGonagall anyway.  
  
Hermione winced as she pulled on a pair of loose black trousers and a soft white shirt. Professor McGonagall was there every day, and every day Madam Pomfrey told her to go away.  
Right on cue, an argument began at the edge of the girl's hearing.  
  
"What do you mean I can't go in?" Minerva McGonagall's voice sounded angry. "She's the Head Girl of my House and she's been in there almost a month. Now Poppy be reasonable!"  
  
There was a quiet reply from Madam Pomfrey, and then Hermione heard-  
  
"What do you mean, I should be reasonable? Poppy, I am going in there, now stand aside."  
  
There was another mutter and then, a slam.  
  
Hermione sat down on the bed as Minerva McGonagall stepped into the room.  
  
"Is Madam Pomfrey all right?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I threatened to transform her into a cockroach, if you must know," Minerva said, "She's gone to compose herself."  
  
McGonagall seated herself on the bed beside the girl. "Miss Granger, why in the world have you refused to let me in? You have never been afraid to face up to your actions before."  
  
Hermione blushed a deep red. "I didn't want to talk about what I did."  
  
McGonagall shook her head, "I'm not going to take house points for something like that."  
  
The girl swallowed miserably. "I just don't want to talk about it."  
  
Minerva McGonagall looked annoyed. "You needn't re-live what happened in that horrible room. I simply need to know why you did what you did. Why did you try to draw him away from me after you had been told to protect yourselves?"  
  
Hermione bit her lip. "Please, don't make me tell you," she whispered.  
  
McGonagall's face tightened. "Miss Granger, you have to tell me," she said. "I have nightmares every night. During the day I ask myself over and over, why?" She looked up.  
  
"Do you know what answer I fear the most?"  
  
Hermione shook her head slowly.  
  
"That you felt you had to. That somehow you believed I would blame you if he raped me."  
Minerva let out a shaking breath. "There, I said it. Now for Merlin's sake child, let me hear the truth, whatever it may be. I'm not here to reprimand you, I simply need some peace."  
  
Hermione threw herself full length on the bed and hid her face in the pillow.  
  
"I did it because I couldn't stand to see him, to see anyone, touch you," the girl choked out.  
  
"But why?" Minerva asked in confusion. She laid a gentle hand on the girl's head. "I am your head of house, but surely you did not believe your obligation extended that far?"  
  
Hermione shivered. "Don't you know?" she said miserably. "Do I have to say it?"  
  
There was a long silence.  
  
"Oh Miss Granger," said Minerva, "No."  
  
Angrily, Hermione rolled over and glared at the older woman. "Well, you wanted to know. I'm sorry if my silly sixteen year old emotions are embarrassing."  
  
"I'm not embarrassed," said McGonagall, her face reddening.  
  
"Well now you know and you can laugh at me for being so smart and such a bloody git at the same time," Hermione snarled.  
  
Minerva closed her eyes. "Hermione, I am four times your age."  
  
The girl laughed bitterly. "And saying that makes it go away? I've always known there's no chance."  
  
"But you were still willing to suffer in my place?"  
  
"I'm sorry," said Hermione. She sat up and buried her face in her bent knees.  
  
"I know you think this is just a crush and that I was being thoughtless and theatrical," the girl said hopelessly, "But I knew what I was doing. I would rather he ripped me to shreds than that he so much as touched your face."   
  
A hand touched her shoulder and she looked up.  
  
"Hermione, I'm old," Minerva said firmly. "I wouldn't know what to do, even if I could. I'm   
flattered, of course, but it really is out of the question."  
  
The girl shook her head, "You're middle aged for a witch, and there's not that much to it, if you wanted to. There are books in the restricted section of the library that explain it all."   
  
"Hermione," Minerva said waspishly, "Sexuality is not some sort of, of- research project. I will not use this tragedy to justify sexual exploration with a child."  
  
Hermione grabbed McGonagall's hand and said desperately, "Would you consider it?"  
  
Minerva looked down, but said nothing.  
  
"Have you ever thought about it?" the girl asked.  
  
The woman reddened again. "You are one of my students, even if I care for you very much. I would not consider it. This conversation is becoming foolish."  
  
Hermione took a deep breath.  
  
"I love you Professor McGonagall." She squeezed the woman's hand. "Please, I - "  
  
McGonagall stood abruptly, pulling her hand free. "I have to go."  
  
"Come back later, please," Hermione begged, "Madam Pomfrey goes to bed at 11 PM and I have the room to myself until dawn unless I call."  
  
"Miss Granger, I have to go now." Without looking back, the witch escaped the room.  
  
"Well that could have been better," Hermione said softly. She sat back on the bed and waited for Madam Pomfrey to re-appear. 


	5. Are You On Fire?

Chapter 5 - Are you on fire, from the years?  
-The Indigo Girls  
Eleven PM came and went. Hermione lay miserably in bed as the clock ticked relentlessly towards midnight.  
  
Wiping tears from her face, she wondered if Durmstrang was taking applications for exchange students.  
  
There was a soft sound at the door and a small shadow entered the room. Hermione watched as the shadow grew and took the shape of a woman.  
  
"You did come," she said.  
  
The figure remained firmly in the shadows.  
  
"I don't know why," McGonagall's silhouette said softly. "This is mad."  
  
McGonagall walked slowly into the dim light from the windows. Her hair was down, and her black robes were new.  
  
"I'm terrified," Minerva said flatly. "A sixteen year old child has managed to frighten me more than Voldemort ever did. Why are you asking this of me?"  
  
"But you came anyway," Hermione said, looking confused.   
  
"I'm much too old to be slinking around the school at night," Minerva said. She sat carefully on the side of the bed.  
  
"I'm glad you're here," said Hermione. "If it helps."  
  
"I've never done this," McGonagall said. She took Hermione's hand carefully. "Not with a woman, not with a student. I wouldn't even know how to begin. You can't expect this of me. I came to tell you how foolish this was."  
  
Hermione said slowly, "I understand." She stared at her feet for a moment, trying very hard not to cry. "I'm sorry Professor," she said, and a strangled sob escaped her lips.  
  
"Please, don't do that," McGonagall said. "Or I will too." She rummaged a handkerchief out of her pocket and began to dab. "It's all right, I'm not angry with you." Without meaning to, she found her hand massaging the back of the girl's neck.  
  
Hermione cried harder, turning away to hide her face in her hands.  
  
Minerva tried to swallow past the lump in her throat.  
  
Carefully she began to smooth Hermione's hair, allowing the thick strands to tumble through her fingers.  
  
After a long time the crying stopped.  
  
McGonagall returned to the girl's neck, working at the knots she found there. Slowly, Hermione began to relax.  
  
"It's not that I find you unattractive Miss Granger," McGonagall said haltingly.  
  
"Then why?" Hermione said. The fire had died down and the air in the infirmary was chill and damp. Hermione shivered.  
  
Instinctively, McGonagall drew closer.  
  
"In 1945, my husband was killed in the battle against the wizard Grindelwald," McGonagall said. "I thought my life was over." Her robes rustled as she arranged herself more comfortably.  
  
"I never knew," said Hermione. "You must have loved him very much." She breathed deeply, inhaling the other woman's comforting smell of sandalwood and evergreen.  
  
"I came to Hogwarts that same year," said Minerva, "Dumbledore asked me to teach, and I suddenly had a reason to go on living."   
  
Hermione turned slightly to look at the woman.  
  
"And since then?"  
  
McGonagall let her fingertips trace patterns on the girl's neck.   
  
"I've become a martinet, my dear," McGonagall said. "A dried up old stick who lives for her Quidditch and her classroom."  
  
Hermione scooted backwards so her bottom rested firmly against the woman's leg. "No one else has ever- ?" she said.  
  
McGonagall took a sharp breath. "No one," she muttered. She stroked gently along Hermione's hairline, and felt her nipples tighten in response to the girl's soft sigh. Her face reddened with shame.  
  
"I swore years ago that I would never do this, not with a student. It is too easy to take advantage of a child's infatuation, a replacement for a real relationship with someone who can see your imperfections."  
  
"But I've asked you," Hermione said. She sounded very unhappy. "Doesn't that make a difference?" She tilted her head to allow McGonagall to stroke the base of her neck. "How could you be forcing me?"  
  
"I don't honestly know anymore," Minerva said after a few moments, "Why do you believe that you love me?" Her voice was low and uncertain, but her hands drifted through the neck of the girl's nightshirt to massage her shoulders.  
  
Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "Not because you're perfect, but because you're smart and excellent at transfiguration, and you're not afraid of anyone." She gulped. "And because you're beautiful."  
  
"I think you flatter me too much," said McGonagall. "I'm an old witch who should know better than to get herself in such a muddle."  
  
"But it won't be a muddle forever," said Hermione. "In two years I'll be - "  
  
"A beautiful young woman tied to her aging transfigurations professor," finished McGonagall. "No one, including you, will ever know what you saw in me. I was shocked to hear that you believed yourself in love with me in the first place." The woman knew as she said them that the words were a lie.  
  
She hadn't been shocked. At least, not for long. Mostly, she'd been excited.  
  
"I am in love with you," Hermione said.   
  
McGonagall's hands trembled on her shoulders for a long moment.  
  
"I never thought I would hear you say that," Minerva said at last.  
  
"Do you want that, with me?" said Hermione.  
  
"I have no idea what I want," Minerva said. "But I don't need to have my hands in your gown." She pulled her hands back through the nightdress's tight neck. "I'm sorry Hermione."  
  
"Here, that's an easy one." Hermione pulled the nightdress over her head and held it in front of her protectively. "Is that better?"  
  
McGonagall blew out a shaky breath. "No," she said. "That was not what I meant. I think that you should get dressed, and I should go, before I do something - foolish." Unable to stop herself, she leaned forward and laid a hand on the girl's back. "Please, get dressed. I don't know what I'm doing here."  
  
Hermione quivered as one delicate hand tentatively traced her spine, and another trailed along her neck.  
  
"It doesn't feel foolish to me," she said. "No one is supposed to be alone forever."  
  
McGonagall hung her head. "I thought I could tell you no," she said. "I promised myself I would not do this, I would never do this."  
  
She leaned forward and rested her forehead against the girl's back and whispered, "I never let myself touch you, I was never alone with you for more than a few moments, but yet, here we are."  
  
"You did want me," Hermione said quietly.  
  
"I've wanted you, and hated myself for it," Minerva said. "and I could not live with myself if I harmed you."   
  
McGonagall's hands slid across the girl's back; caressing the skin.  
  
"That feels good," Hermione whispered. "What he did wasn't good."  
  
"Had anyone ever touched you, at all," McGonagall said, "before he - ?" She did not elaborate, but the girl understood.  
  
"No," Hermione said quietly. She closed her eyes and laid her head on her knees as Minerva slid even closer and began to stroke her bare arms. She could feel the soft cloth of the woman's dress against her back, the gentle press of breasts against her shoulders.  
  
"I don't want to hurt you Hermione," Minerva said desperately. "It's been too long, and I've never, not with a woman."  
  
Hermione leaned back so that her head lay on McGonagall's shoulder. Slowly, she pulled away the nightdress and let it drift onto the floor.  
  
"I trust you," the girl said.   
  
McGonagall's voice was strange and heavy, her breath hot as she said "Hermione, please." The sound was almost a moan.  
  
"Touch me," Hermione whispered.  
  
Minerva's breathing speeded as her hands slowed, stroking sensuously up and down Hermione's bare arms. With each stroke her fingertips slid closer to the curve of the girl's breasts.  
  
Unable to bear any more, Hermione turned her head and brushed her lips along the woman's throat.  
  
"Please," she begged.  
  
Trembling, Minerva allowed herself to cup the girl's breasts. Hermione made a soft sound of pleasure as tentative fingers rubbed carefully across her hardened nipples.  
  
"Is that - Does it feel good?" Minerva asked nervously.  
  
"Yes," Hermione hissed. She arched her back, pressing herself more firmly against the woman's hands and smiling at McGonagall's gasp of pleasure.  
  
A moment later and it was Hermione's turn to gasp as fingers slid along her sides and danced teasingly across her thighs.  
  
"Do you want me to take the drawers off?" the girl said.  
  
"Please, not yet," Minerva said, her breath rasping. "I can't."  
  
"It's all right," Hermione said. Gently, the girl turned, tugging at the woman until they were laying side by side on the narrow bed. She could feel the older witch shivering madly.  
  
"It's all right," Hermione said again. She covered McGonagall's hand with her own and moved it carefully to the top of her white cotton panties.   
  
Minerva closed her eyes and allowed her hand to slip beneath the thin fabric. Suddenly, Hermione's mouth covered hers and she was lost.  
  
Heat flooded the older woman's body as her stroking fingertips brushed the soft nest of curls hidden between the girl's legs.   
  
"Show me what it's like," Hermione whispered, "When it's someone that you love."  
  
Cautiously Minerva let her fingers slide forward.   
  
Hermione moaned and twisted as the older witch began to rub, first only back and forth, then, as she grew more daring, in gentle circles.  
  
"Profesor McGonagall," Hermione said softly, "Oh God, Minerva." This was better than touching herself had ever been.  
  
McGonagall rolled atop the girl, and shuddered with pleasure as Hermione clung to her. Feeling quite bold, she pressed more deeply at the warm opening beneath her fingers.  
  
"Hermione," Minerva said, "Tell me if it doesn't please you."  
  
"What are you - ?" Hermione managed, then she gasped as she felt a finger slide inside of her.  
  
"Are you all right?" Minerva asked anxiously. She moved as if to withdraw her hand.  
  
"No," Hermione said, "Oh don't stop."  
  
Together, they began to move. Slowly and uncertainly Minerva worked first one and then two fingers inside the quivering girl.  
  
Hermione bit her lip to stifle a cry as McGonagall increased the speed of her thrusts, brushing across the sensative nub with each push. Slowly she reached out and tangled her fingers in the woman's flowing hair.   
  
"Oh my dear," Minerva said.  
  
In a moment the girl gasped, her muscles stiffening. McGonagall moaned as her own climax washed over her in waves.  
  
For a few minutes they lay together in the darkness, Hermione lying silently with her head beneath the older woman's chin.  
  
Minerva realized with a start that she could feel warm wetness running across her shoulder.  
  
Crying. Hermione was crying.  
  
She raised a hand and swiped at the tears on the girl's face.  
  
"Hermione, did I hurt you?" she asked. "What did I do? I'm sorry dear." The witch sat up abruptly.  
  
"No," Hermione said weakly. "You didn't. It's just that it's not like - It's not - "  
  
"What Hermione? It's not what?"  
  
"The books tell you all about it," Hermione burst out, "But it's not like that at all! They don't tell you how it really feels. I thought I knew but it wasn't, it didn't-" She stared at the older woman in the darkness, "I love you so much I hurt."  
  
Minerva ran a trembling hand over the girls cheek. "The books tell you the how of it, love. They can't tell you the rest." She lay down again and wrapped her arms around Hermione's shaking shoulders. "I wish it were all that easy."  
  
"Do you love me?" Hermione asked, her voice breaking a little.  
  
"Give me time, Hermione," Minerva said. "Right now, I honestly don't know whether to kiss you or go straight to Dumbledore and turn myself over to him."  
  
"I have to know," Hermione pleaded. "Do you love me?"  
  
Minerva hid her face in the curve of the girl's neck. "Yes," she whispered. 


	6. Cocoa and Collapse

Chapter 6  
  
Albus Dumbledore sipped slowly at his cup of hot chocolate. In a world gone mad, one could always count on a marshmallow to remain the same.  
  
There was a knock at the door, and the brass knocker shrieked, "Severus Snape!"  
  
With real regret Dumbledore placed his cup to the side.  
  
He sighed.  
  
He had known this day was coming for three weeks; had known it ever since Severus stubbornly refused to have his memory Obliviated.  
  
They were going to Talk.  
  
Albus headed for the door, absent-mindedly popping a pair of lemon drops into his mouth. He had been rehearsing this conversation for days, weeks really.  
  
Now Severus, surely you realize I was trying to distract him. Veritaserum has no effect on me -   
  
Now Severus, I'd forgotten all about that little conversation -   
  
Now Severus, I hope we can continue to work together as friends -   
  
Now Severus I -   
  
He wondered if anyone had ever succesfully cast Avada Kedavra on himself.  
  
He reached the door and pulled it open, a broad smile on his face.  
  
"Severus, what a pleasure," he said. "I thought surely Fudge was still bothering you in the debriefing chambers. Come in, sit down."  
  
Severus Snape sneered and shook his head. "As you are well aware, Headmaster, I was debriefed two weeks ago." Black bat-wing cloak swirling behind him, Snape pushed past the older man and took a seat at the table.  
  
"Sherbet Lemon, Severus?" Dumbledore said blandly, sitting opposite.  
  
"Do you offer those to all the children," said Snape bitterly, "or only to me?"  
  
Dumbledore's smile collapsed and his face fell.   
  
"Oh Severus, that was not kind," he managed. "I am not a pederast."  
  
Snape steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "Do you remember the night I came to you? The night I left him?" The last word was a snarl.  
  
"I remember," Dumbledore said quietly. Softly, he stroked the silken edges of his sleeves, stopping when he noted the nervous gesture.  
  
"I was seventeen and I crawled to you," Snape said, "I came to you on my knees. I confessed everything and you forgave me." He spat on the floor and repeated, "You forgave me."  
  
"You had made a mistake," Dumbledore said. He looked proud and ashamed all at once. "You were a child when you went to him."  
  
"You forgave me for going to his side, and to his bed, and I offered to come to yours," Severus said. He poked angrily at Albus's discarded cocoa mug, ignoring its' frantic squeaks of annoyance at the rough treatment.  
  
Dumbledore turned his head and said nothing.  
  
"You refused me when I put my hands on your cock, and I believed you were the greatest man in the world," Severus hissed. "And now I find that you did want me after all." He slapped the mug from the table and it shattered on the floor. "I want to know, Headmaster. Was it only because you would not have Voldemort's whore? Were you afraid of what you might catch?"  
  
Albus turned to stare at the younger man with anguished eyes.   
  
"No, Severus," he said softly. "That is not true. Child, that is not true."  
  
"I am a grown man, Headmaster," Snape said. "And I want to know- what is the truth?" He covered his face with shaking hands. "Did it excite you, when I told you the things he did to me? When you rocked me to sleep after the nightmares?"  
  
"Severus, no."  
  
"Tell me the truth," Snape snarled. "Damn you, tell me the truth!"  
  
Albus took a deep breath.  
  
"I have loved you since you were thirteen years old," Dumbledore said. "And you may damn me for that if you like."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me, if you loved me so much?" Severus demanded, his voice anguished. "I was thirteen when my mother died. I was thirteen when I cried myself to sleep night after night with you holding me." He slammed his fists into the table. "Was that the only reason you held me even then?"  
  
Dumbledore covered the other man's hands with his own, holding tightly when Severus tried to jerk away.  
  
"I held you then because you were a child Severus," he said carefully. "I loved you, but I did not wish to make love to you, not then."  
  
"A child who idolized you!" Snape shouted. "A child who would have let you do anything you wanted, anything, if it meant I could be with you a few minutes longer. I trusted you!"  
  
"And I would not betray that, even now," Dumbledore said quietly. "When your mother died I held you because you were hurt." He squeezed the man's hands tightly, "And when you left him, when you were older and I did want you, desperately, do you know why I still refused you?"  
  
"Because he had made me filthy," said Severus.  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore said softly, "If I had taken you then, you would have thought for the rest of your life that you had bought your way with your body. That was his way, my boy, not mine."  
  
"That was a long time ago, Headmaster," Snape said. "I have been a man for a very long time."  
  
Albus sighed. "A man who, up until three weeks ago, would still treat my slightest wish as a command." He stood and began to pace. "I am over one hundred years your senior Severus, would I ever have been sure that you came to my bed as an equal?" He paused in his stride to stare into the mirror, and then resumed pacing. "I loved you then for the man you would be. I love you now for the man you have become." He stared sadly at the potions master, "But I would never have used that love to harm you."  
  
"Veritaserum," Severus said.  
  
"What?" Dumbledore said. He returned to the table and sat. "Did you say Veritaserum?"  
  
"Take it," Severus spat out. "Four drops. And then we'll finish this conversation."  
  
There was a long moment of silence, and then Albus nodded.  
  
Yes.  
  
Severus reached into the pocket of his robe and withdrew a small bottle. Wordlessly, Dumbledore stretched out his hand.  
  
The glass was cool against his fingers as he pulled the stopper and placed it to his lips.  
  
One drop, two.   
  
He smiled sadly.  
  
Three.  
  
"That's enough," Severus said harshly.  
  
Four.  
  
"Albus, enough," Severus said, reaching for the vial.  
  
Five. Six. Seven.   
  
"Have you gone mad?" Severus snarled. He slapped the vial from the older wizard's hands, spraying the remaining contents across the rug. "Seven drops? I don't want you to poison yourself, only to tell me the truth."  
  
"I did not want there to be any doubt," Albus said quietly. "Now, there will not be."  
  
Severus stared at him, his eyes blank and unreadable. "When my mother died, and my father began to beat me, did you heal me - " He paused and cleared his throat. "Did you comfort me because you wanted to use me?"  
  
"No," said Dumbledore. He winced. "I held you, and I healed you, and I kept your secrets because I loved you, not to gain pleasure."  
  
"Did you ever become - aroused, when I sat, and cried in your arms or on your bed?" Severus asked. A muscle twitched at the side of his jaw.  
  
"No," Albus whispered. He looked quite ill. "Severus, how could you ask that?"  
  
"And the night I came to you, from him," Severus said, his voice cracking, "Why did you refuse me?" His knuckles were white and clenched. "I felt you respond."  
  
"You were hurt, Severus, so hurt," Albus said. He remembered with a shudder the thin, battered, and very young man who had entered his rooms that night. The boy's eyes had been beaten almost closed, his ribs broken. Blood had run from his mouth as he breathed. Dumbledore shook his head at the memory and reached across the table to brush a bit of hair from Snape's eyes, wincing as the man flinched from the touch. "I almost told you that night."  
  
"Why didn't you?"  
  
"When you touched me, and I did respond, do you remember what you did next?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"I started to undress," Severus said. He was confused. "And I asked what you wanted. What does this have to do with anything?"  
  
"No," Dumbledore said, "You took off your pants and dropped to your knees in front of me. Do you remember?"  
  
"Yes," Severus said flatly. "And you told me to get dressed and go."  
  
"No, Severus," said the older man patiently.   
  
"All right then. You put your hand on my face, and you asked me what I was doing," Severus said, sounding angry, "And I asked what you wanted- did you want me to suck you off while you sat there or did you want to fuck me? That seems clear enough to me."  
  
"Oh, it was clear," Dumbledore said. "And when I heard you ask me that, my heart broke," Albus said gently. "You had no idea that there was more to it than that, that I might not just use you for my own pleasure."  
  
Snape stared at the older man in blank incomprehension. "What else would there have been?" he asked. "I wanted you to use me."  
  
"Severus," Albus said, horror dawning on his face. "Have you never had a partner who cared for you, even now?"  
  
"I have had many partners, Albus," Snape said.  
  
Albus shook his head. "Severus, when I realized that you had no expectation of love, or joy, or even warmth, only of someone using your body for their own needs, I told you to get dressed." He clasped his hands over the potions masters'. "I loved you then and I love you now my boy."  
  
Dumbledore felt something in his tightly clenched stomach relax as Severus pulled one hand free and twined it in the fabric of his sleeve.  
  
"You didn't refuse me because he had touched me?" Snape whispered.  
  
"No."  
  
"And you didn't let me come back because you wanted me?"  
  
"No."  
  
Snape closed his eyes. "Have you ever, in your life, touched or thought of touching a child?"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Severus. When I realized the exact nature of my feelings for you, you were 17." He smiled sadly, "And before you ask, no, there has never been another student who has held my heart."  
  
Snape's shoulders jerked back and forth several times, and Albus realized that he was sobbing without tears.  
  
"Is it so different?" Severus said in a raw voice, "What you wanted, with me? Was I so wrong?"  
  
"Yes, child, it is that different," Dumbledore said softly. "As different as he and I." He slid his hand over the other man's head, smoothing the soft black hair.  
  
"I need to think Albus," said Snape. "I don't know what's real anymore." He laid his head on the table.  
  
"Why did you come here Severus?" the old man asked. Gently, he continued to stroke the potion master's hair. "What other potions do you have in those pockets of yours?"  
  
"Non Temetis Messor Extract," Snape whispered without lifting his head. Slowly he pulled a tiny black bottle from his pocket and placed it on the table. "If you had been like him, if my whole life had been based on a lie, I would have ensured that neither of us left this room."  
  
Gingerly, Dumbledore scooped up the potion and stared at it. Non Temetis Messor, truly bottled death. Once the potion cooled, if the stopper were removed, or even loosened, everyone who breathed the vapor would be dead within seconds. He thought for a moment of the speech Severus   
gave every first year potions class -   
  
I certainly hope he isn't teaching this one.  
  
A light sweat broke out on his forehead. The potion had been outlawed by the Ministry over one hundred years ago; even the primary ingredients were banned.   
  
Carefully, Dumbledore removed his wand from its sleeve pocket and said "Argentum cubitus."  
The potion bottle disappeared. In its place sat a gold box. Hands shaking, Albus picked up the golden cube and tossed it into the fire.  
  
"Thank heavens gold neutralizes it," Dumbledore said. His cheerful voice sounded forced.  
  
"I'm frightened," Snape said quietly. He straightened and looked at the older man. "Everything I know to be true is wrong."  
  
"I should have told you that you were loved," Dumbledore said. "Can you try to forgive me for the mistakes I have made?"  
  
"I have to think," said Snape. He rose, his robes hanging listlessly. "Potter has given me the gift of a life; I'm not sure if I should thank him or kill him."  
  
"I love you Severus," Dumbledore said, "I always have." He trailed behind the younger man as the potions master made for the door.  
  
"I don't know what that means," Snape said.   
  
The wooden door slammed with a muffled "ouch" from the doorknocker, and then there was silence.  
  



	7. Trying

Chapter 7  
Harry Potter poked listlessly at the treacle tart on his plate. The taste was brilliant, almost as good as the ones the house elves at Hogwarts made, but something was missing - something -   
  
Severus Snape strode into the Ministry dining room and Harry felt his spirits leap.  
  
Someone he knew!   
  
Quickly he stood.  
"Professor Snape?" Harry called, waving. He was so bored, so lonely, even Snape was better than nothing. Anyway, the greasy git had to like him a little better, after all- he'd saved his life.  
  
Severus glanced around and sighed. Potter, it had to be Potter. On what was rapidly becoming the most confusing day of his disaster of a life. He paused a moment in thought. Or re-life, or un-life, or whatever in the bloody hell he was currently experiencing.  
  
"Why, Mr. Potter, are you concealing yourself in this rather dim corner?" Snape sneered as he walked toward the table. "When you could be showing yourself to all and sundry in the grand dining hall upstairs?"  
  
Harry grimaced and took a bite of his tart. He'd forgotten- his father had saved Snape's life too, and look where it got him.  
  
"They all keep staring at me," he said at last. He glanced around to make sure they were alone.   
"They treat me like a freak."  
  
Despite his recent upsetting discussion with Albus, the man felt a glimmer of humour tickle him at the boy's innocence. Snape stared at him, one eyebrow arched. "Perhaps, Mr. Potter, they are simply waiting to see if your chicken gets up off the plate and begins to cluck."  
  
Harry choked on his tart.  
  
A joke! Snape had made a joke.  
  
After a frantic coughing spell he glared at the professor.  
  
"I don't do chickens, only snakes."  
  
For a moment he thought he had gone too far. Snape's face tightened and his hands gripped the table's edge. It took the boy another second to realize the truth- it was a sham; the potions master was trying his best not to burst into laughter.  
  
The attempt failed, and Severus Snape chortled out loud.  
  
"It seems you do have a mind under all of that hair, Potter," the man said. His smile quickly faded. He tapped his wand on the table and a house elf appeared.  
  
"What would Mr. Snape be wanting for dinner?" the elf asked.  
  
"The usual Binny," Snape said, "Tea, cold chicken, and a pudding of some sort."  
  
The elf nodded and blinked away.  
  
Harry studied the older man curiously; this was the longest time they had spent together since their escape from Voldemort. The weeks had not been kind to the potions master. His thin frame had grown steadily more gaunt, his shallow skin more yellowed as the days passed.  
  
"Are you all right Professor?" asked Harry. "You look, well - " He gestured hopelessly.  
  
"Bloody awful," Snape finished.  
  
Harry could only gape at the profanity as Binny returned, setting the professor's plate before him and disappearing.  
  
Snape toyed with his dinner.  
  
"Why are you down here anyway?" Harry asked. "I thought you ate with Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
An unreadable look crossed the man's face, and he slowly shook his head. "If it were any of your business, Potter, I would tell you that I have been eating alone in my rooms since we arrived."  
  
"Why?" Harry asked in surprise.   
  
"Has it occurred to you, Mr. Potter, that perhaps I too have been the object of unwanted attention?" Snape sneered. "For some unfathomable reason, others seem to have a fascination for what it feels like to be dead." He stabbed viciously at his chicken.  
  
Harry looked down. "I'm sorry."  
  
Snape shook his head. "Don't be sorry, you foolish boy. It's not as if you could have asked for a by your leave."   
  
Harry said quietly, "Was it terrible?"  
  
Snape looked at him, his eyes black and fathoms deep. "I was at peace."  
  
Harry shuddered. "Your life is that bad?"  
  
"You don't want to know about my life, Mr. Potter," Snape said.   
  
"Does it help," Harry asked cautiously, "Does it help knowing that Professor Dumbledore, uh, cares for you?"   
  
Snape's fork clattered to the plate.  
  
"How dare you, Mr. Potter," Snape snarled. He stood, pushing his chair back from the table. "I was foolish to believe we could have a conversation."  
  
"But I - "  
  
"That will be quite enough," said Snape. Without another word he aparated.  
  
"Bloody hell," said Harry.  
Later that evening  
  
Severus Snape twisted in his chair, trying to find a comfortable spot to peruse the latest copy of "Potent Potions and Their Uses."  
  
"Damn Albus and Potter both to hell," he muttered softly.  
  
There was a knock at the chamber door.  
  
"Go away," Snape said loudly.  
  
"It's me Professor," came the voice of Harry Potter.  
  
"In that case, go away Potter," Snape said.  
  
The door opened and Harry Potter stepped inside.  
  
"I needed to speak to you."  
  
Severus sighed. "Since it obviously does not matter that I do not wish to speak to you, by all means, go ahead."  
  
Harry seated himself in the soft, squashy chair next to the potions master and said, "I wasn't trying to pry you know."  
  
Snape shook his head. "It does not matter what you were trying to do, Mr. Potter. It is none of your business." His thin fingers caressed his wand.  
  
"I was just wondering if it's easier to bear, knowing someone else loves you."  
  
Snape grimaced. "If what is easier to bear you idiot boy?"  
  
"The pain," Harry said.  
  
Snape stared at him with hatred in his eyes. "What would you know of pain, Potter? Loosing your mummy and daddy? Don't be surprised if I do not weep."  
  
"I was talking about what Voldemort did to you, when you were younger," Harry said. The murderous look on Snape's face told him that his shot in the dark had gone home.   
  
"I do not wish to discuss this with you," Snape said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Now get out."  
  
"You aren't the only one it's happened to," Harry said softly.  
  
Severus felt his mouth grow dry. He tried to swallow and his throat gave a miserable click.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Snape rasped out.  
  
"I was eight the first time my Uncle pulled me into the attic while Aunt Petunia and Dudley were at the grocer's," Harry said.  
  
Snape stared at him in bewilderment. "Your Uncle?"  
  
"At first I thought he was going to beat me again," the boy shrugged. "Then I wished he had."  
  
Snape leaned back and closed his eyes.  
  
"I thought I was going to bleed to death," Harry said. "For a week I had to keep a towel down the back of my drawers." The boy laughed, "It was the first time I was ever glad I had to wear Dudley's old pants; there was so much material no one noticed a little more."  
  
"You said the first time," Snape said. "There were more?"  
  
Harry smiled sadly. "Too many times to count."  
  
The older man shook his head, "And he beat you?"  
  
"Sometimes he would hit me during, "Harry said, "Other times he just hit me." The boy looked down. "That's why I wondered, does it get easier, if you know someone else loves you?"  
  
Snape passed a hand over his lips.  
  
"I don't know," he said.  
  
Harry looked at him quizzically.  
  
"I was sixteen when I became a Death Eater," Severus said, "And seventeen when I crawled back to Dumbledore and begged him to take me in."  
  
"But he loved you," Harry said.  
  
"He never told me that," Snape replied. "He comforted me when my mother died, healed me when my father began to beat me, but he never said he loved me. I wouldn't have known what he meant if he did."  
  
"But why else would he have made the effort?" Harry said.  
  
"You heard him in that dungeon," Snape said. "He wanted me." The man pushed his hair back from his face, looking far older than his years. "From what you have just told me, you of all people should understand, Mr. Potter. The strong take what they want, there are simply better and worse ways to do it."  
  
Harry laid a small hand on the man's arm. "But he said he'd never touched you like that."  
  
"He did not," Snape said. He began to say more, then closed his mouth firmly.  
  
"Well it seems to me that if he only wanted to shag you, he could have done it any time he wanted," Harry said.  
  
Snape looked at him, clearly perplexed. "What are you going on about Potter?"  
  
"I do understand, Professor," Harry said. "You're afraid Professor Dumbledore is like Voldemort, aren't you?"  
  
Severus' shallow skin seemed to lose all color, becoming a shroud wrapping his bones. "I do not understand someone who could want a child," he said softly. "Albus has been many thing to me over the years, more than you will ever know. How can I look at him, knowing he could do that to a child?" He smoothed his hands repetitively over the wood of the table, obscurely calmed by the gesture.  
  
"Do what to a child, exactly?" said Harry.  
  
"I don't know why I'm talking to you Potter," Snape said, "But there's no one else is there? People don't exactly line up to give me a bit of tea and hear my sad tale of woe." He laughed. "But fool that you are, you are here, and you have asked, so I will tell you." He laughed again and stared at the boy. "I imagine you will enjoy telling Granger and Weasley all about your evil potions master's final breakdown."  
  
Harry shook his head. "I won't be telling anyone, and you know it. Now, what do you think Professor Dumbledore wanted to do to you? To hurt you? Is that why you're not together now?" He looked at the man expectantly.  
  
Snape closed his eyes and muttered "He wanted me, he still wants me. How could he want me? How could he want to do that to me? He says it's different, but - "  
  
Harry blushed and looked down. "It doesn't always hurt you know."  
  
Snape's head jerked up and he stared at the boy.  
  
"I knew there had to be more to it, or people wouldn't be gay," Harry said sheepishly. "So I asked Fred-n-George to show me." He blushed more deeply, tripping over his words. "I mean, they like girls and everything, but I knew they had and so I asked."  
  
Snape said quietly, "And what did you discover, Mr. Potter?" For once there was no menace, no sarcasm, dripping from his words.  
  
"It was brilliant!" Harry smiled, and then laughed, "After the first bit where George squashed my legs and I kicked Fred in the head on accident."  
  
The man had to smile at the image.  
  
"It didn't hurt at all," Harry said, "And the snuggling was nice, even if Fred snores."  
  
Snape said nothing, staring at the boy with desperate longing in his eyes.  
  
"Anyway, I like girls too, but it was nice and I'd do it again," Harry said. "You just have to know who to do it with."  
  
"And how do you know that Mr. Potter?" Snape asked sarcastically.   
  
Harry stopped, then smiled at the needing expression on the man's face. "You pick the ones who will snuggle afterwards," he said.  
  
Snape sat in silence, unable to respond.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore didn't want to hurt you, you silly git," Harry said softly. "He loves you." The boy smiled, "Besides, shagging is fun if your partners not a complete prat."   
  
Severus reached for his mug of tea and took a sip to wet his parched throat.  
  
"I could show you if you like," Harry said suddenly.  
  
Severus choked, spewing tea across the table. The boy ducked to avoid being splattered.   
  
"You could ask Professor Dumbledore to watch," Harry said, keeping a straight face.  
  
Severus wiped tea from his robes and glared at the boy. "Juvenile Gryffindor pervert."   
  
Harry smiled and shrugged, "Doesn't hurt to ask. You're a git, but you're not bad looking when you haven't been dead lately."  
  
Snape had to laugh. Shaking his head he said slowly, "Thank you for the incredibly romantic offer, but I believe there is someone else I should be asking."  
  
Harry squeezed the man's hand gently. "It is different when they love you, or even like you," he said. "Give it a chance."  
  
"I cannot believe I am taking advice based on experience gained with Fred and George Weasley," Snape sneered. "But I am forced to admit you may be right. I will speak with Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"Good luck," Harry said, as the man stood.  



	8. Rebirth

Chapter 8  
Albus Dumbledore lay in his bed, awake. Fawkes trilled and preened on his perch. The phoenix had been restless all evening, following his master's mood.  
  
There was a knock on the quarter's outer door, and the knocker screamed "Severus Snape!"  
  
"Come in," Dumbledore said loudly, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.  
  
The door swung open before he could don his robe and reach the sitting room.  
  
"Albus?" Severus said softly. He entered the room with shoulders hunched, looking right and left as if he expected a werewolf to greet him. His earlier burst of courage had drained like water through a sieve.  
  
"I'm here, child. Just keeping warm," Albus said. He entered the front room tying the sash of his electric yellow dressing down.  
  
"I wanted to talk," Snape said, turning to go. "I can call again tomorrow if I've disturbed you."  
  
"Nonsense, my boy," Dumbledore said. "I'm delighted to see you." He motioned the tall man to a chair beside the smoldering fire. "Sit down."  
  
The older wizard pulled his own chair beside that of the potions master. Noticing that the man sat rigidly, almost woodenly, he asked "Severus, what is it my boy?"  
  
Snape groped blindly for Dumbledore's hand. Finding it at last, he wrapped his icy fingers around the warmth there, and held on for dear life.  
  
"I used - I used to dream, to fantasize about you," he said haltingly. "It wasn't just you, who was thinking about-"  
  
"Tell me Severus," Albus said. He let his other hand slide to cover Severus'. "It's all right."  
  
"It hurt, just like always," Snape said, his eyes downcast, "But when you were done, you would hold me, sometimes even kiss me." He looked up at the old wizard; his eyes filled with despair. "Sometimes that's all I dreamed about- you holding me for a few moments afterwards, telling me that it was good." He cleared his throat, "In my best dreams, you told me that I pleased you, and that I could sleep with you, for awhile." The man looked down again and muttered, "I would hold my pillow, and pretend, and pretend - " He could get no further.  
  
Gently Albus placed a hand beneath the other man's chin, and tilted his face upward. "Severus, listen to me."  
  
Snape tilted his head slightly, but said nothing.  
  
"What they did to you, that was not love. What they taught you, all of it, was wrong," Dumbledore said. "Love and making love can exist together."   
  
Severus began to speak, but Dumbledore hushed him with one upraised finger.  
  
"Severus, what they did to you was obscene," Albus said. "That is not what I wanted from you, not ever."  
  
Severus' voice was low. "I always believed that you were the one man on the bloody planet who would never hurt me." His face twitched. "Even when I dreamed of you, I always had to persuade you, to convince you to bed me. And then, when I thought that you were like him, I could not bear it." He sighed, "I finally found a reason to simply die."  
  
"I will never hurt you," Albus said, "not physically, and not emotionally if I can possibly prevent it. That is not love, Severus."  
  
"Then what is?" Severus asked.  
  
Slowly Albus leaned over and brushed the other man's lips with his own.   
He felt Severus shiver as he sucked gently at his upper lip.  
  
Carefully, the potions master slid his hands to the Headmaster's shoulders, and then froze.  
  
"It's all right Severus," Dumbledore said. "I will not hurt you."  
  
Snape wrapped his arms around Dumbledore and laid his face on his shoulder. "Albus, I don't know if I can do this, if I can let you," he said. "I feel sick, just like I always have when someone is going to - " His words trailed off as his fingers tightened on the bright yellow fabric.  
  
"Severus," Albus said, his voice kindly. "There is nothing you must do. If this frightens you, wait. Or never do it at all." He laid his cheek against the shallow one beside him. "I will still love you."  
  
"I have wanted this my whole life," Snape muttered, "but - " He shook his head.  
  
Albus closed his eyes and hugged the trembling man.  
  
"Would you like to lay down?" said Dumbledore carefully. He leaned back a little to see Severus' face. "You do not have to if it troubles you."  
  
"Could I- would you let me touch you?" Severus asked. His eyes were wide and terrified.  
  
"Oh, Severus," said Albus, "I would let you do anything you liked."  
  
"I can do that," Severus whispered.  
  
Hands trembling, Severus stood, and started toward the bedroom.  
  
Albus followed without another word.  
  
Seating himself in the middle of the squashy feather mattress, he patted the sheets beside him.  
  
In an instant, Snape was there, balanced on hands and knees.  
  
Albus closed his eyes and leaned back as slender fingers spread the front of his dressing gown and began to unfasten the small buttons holding his nightshirt closed.  
  
"I will make it good for you," Snape said, bowing his head.  
  
Dumbledore inhaled sharply as a hot tongue slid across his nipples, teasing them into peaks. A moment later and the warmth slid downward to engulf his cock.  
  
Snape's skill was immediately obvious as he worked at the tight skin. Just the right suction, perfectly applied, then a brush of teeth. Fingers moving perfectly in rhythym on the shaft as he licked across the crown.  
  
Everything perfect, except-  
  
Severus was performing. A trained dog, dancing on command.  
  
Albus' erection wilted.  
  
The younger man flinched, and laid his face against the mattress.  
  
"I'm sorry," Snape whispered, "you didn't like it. I'll get undressed, you can-"  
  
Albus interrupted. "Severus, it was quite pleasing. Come here." He tugged gently at the man's arm.  
  
Snape allowed himself to be pulled upwards until both men sat with their backs against the headboard. He kept his face turned outward.  
  
"Severus, look at me," said Dumbledore.  
  
Severus turned; his eyes dead.  
  
"I love you," said Dumbledore, "And I will not simply use you, not even at your request."  
  
"I don't understand," said Snape. "I don't know what you want."  
  
Albus slid an arm around Snape's shoulders, and placed his other hand over the potions master's.   
  
"I want to love you," said Dumbledore. He lifted the potion master's hand to his mouth and traced the slender fingers with his tongue.  
  
Severus inhaled sharply.  
  
"I don't wish to use you," said Dumbledore. Slowly he lowered his face and began to nuzzle the other man's neck.  
  
"What are you doing?" Severus said, his voice trembling.  
  
"I'm making myself quite comfortable," said Albus. He paused, and stared down at the potion master's shirt. "Why Severus, what have you spilled?"  
  
Startled, Snape looked down, just in time to feel Albus' finger flick him lightly on the nose.  
  
"Got your conk," said Albus.  
  
"Ah, that's the first time anyone's fallen for that in years," chuckled the headmaster, in response to Snape's astonished look.  
  
There was a moment of silence.   
  
Severus Snape began to laugh.  
  
Astonished, terrified, and suddenly happy almost beyond belief, Snape laughed until tears ran from his eyes and he had to hold his stomach to control the cramping muscles there.  
  
When he finally had himself under control, he found that he was being held firmly by Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"Laughter and love go together, Severus," said Albus. He squeezed the other man in an enveloping hug.  
  
"Then show me how to laugh with you," said Severus. His eyes were very dark and his voice soft.  
  
Albus took the potion masters hands in his, and together they began again.  
  
Severus' breath came in harsh pants as Albus slowly taught him to explore, to linger, to tease. Piece by piece, both mens' clothing was discarded to the floor.  
  
Snape whimpered as the older man dropped his head to lick tantalizing circles around his nipples, and then blew gently on the tight flesh.   
His own hands caressed the headmaster's chest and stomach; no longer working with trained ease, but jerking in pleasure.  
  
"Oh, Albus, oh fuck, Albus," he moaned. He drew his legs up, spreading his knees wide.  
  
Dumbledore took a warm handful of skin balm from a bedside container and slid his palms across the younger man's buttocks. Working in smaller and smaller circles, he spread the slippery stuff into the crease there, tickling and tugging lightly at the sensitive skin.  
  
Snape felt a slender finger slide easily inside, caressing, touching, moving in gentle circles to further loosen the muscle there. Absorbed by the sensation, he almost screamed with pleasure as Dumbledore bent to take the head of his shaft into his mouth.  
  
"Oh Albus," he moaned again. The potion master writhed on the bed, torn between waves of pleasure and the terrifying fear that any moment, any second, the pain would begin.  
  
Feeling the muscles relax, Albus carefully added another digit and began to thrust slowly. His mouth moved, tongue sweeping first here and then there.  
  
Snape rocked his hips back and forth, moaning incoherently. His testicles tightened and he began to feel the first twinges of orgasm.  
  
"Please, Albus, I can't wait," he gasped, "I'm going to..  
  
With a last deep thrust he exploded down the headmaster's throat.  
  
"I'm sorry," said Snape helplessly. He drew his hands up to cover his face. "I couldn't help it, I'm sorry."  
  
Dumbledore laid his head against the younger man's thigh. "Severus," said Albus, "It's quite all right. That is what's supposed to happen you know."  
  
"But you didn't-"  
  
"I didn't yet, you mean," said Dumbledore. "I hope we are not finishing up so quickly." Slowly he caressed the man's leg. "Have you ever been on the, erm, giving end of the equasion?"  
  
Snape sat upright with shock. "You mean you'd like me to-?"  
  
"I'd quite like you to," said Dumbledore, "if you wish it."  
  
"But I've never- I may hurt you," said Severus.  
  
"I trust you," said Albus, smiling.  
  
Three words.  
  
Three small words.  
  
Severus felt his life crumbling around him.  
  
No, not just crumbling.  
  
Rebuilding.  
  
"Yes," said Snape.  
  
He helped the older man to position himself on his back, hands moving slowly.  
  
Remembering. Relearning.  
  
"I love you Severus," said Albus softly.  
  
Severus slid his fingers through the warm balm in the bedside container and began to apply it. His breath hitched and caught.  
  
"I love you too," he whispered. He slid forward and felt the warmth wrap him. His eyes flew open wide.  
  
"Albus," gasped Snape, "Oh Albus."  
  
Dumbledore's arms and legs came around the potions master and held him close.  
  
"Love me then," said Albus. "Don't be afraid."  
  
Severus began to move carefully. Looking for the angle, the spot-  
  
Albus made a sound deep in his throat.  
  
Severus moaned and speeded his thrusts, unaware that he had begun to cry.  
  
Not an act this time.  
  
Not an act.  
  
Snape felt the warmth begin behind his balls and he reached down to stroke the headmaster's erection.  
  
Real, oh so real.  
  
Albus began to jerk softly in time to Severus' thrusts.  
  
"So good love," he muttered. "That feels so good."  
  
"I love you," Severus cried helplessly. He felt himself going over the edge and speeded his strokes. A second later a small flood of warmth exploded across his fingers.  
  
Terror returned in a wave, and Severus' muscles locked in fear.  
  
Over.  
  
It was over, and Albus had gotten what he wanted.  
  
Snape closed his eyes and withdrew himself slowly. Now the pain. The real pain. Albus' voice would change, his arms would fall away.  
  
"Severus, are you all right?"   
  
Prepared to be shoved away, Snape jumped as Albus rolled him to the side and held him firmly.  
  
"I am quite fine," Severus said coldly. "Would you like me to go?" He raised himself on one elbow and arranged his face into a frozen mask of disdain.  
  
"You may go if you like," said Albus, and Severus felt his stomach clench to vomit. "But I would much rather you stayed right here."  
  
"I'll just go then-," began Severus. He choked the sentence off. "What did you say?"  
  
Albus stroked the younger man's face. "I said, I would much rather you stayed right here."  
  
"Here?"  
  
"I thought perhaps we could sleep a bit, and then perhaps find someplace away from here to eat breakfast, if that's all right with you?"  
  
Severus blinked rapidly, trying to control his lungs which were caught between hyperventilation and total stop.  
  
He couldn't help himself. Years fell away in a whirlwind. The mask cracked  
  
He caught the headmaster's hand between his own and stared at him with huge black eyes.  
  
"You will let me sleep with you?" whispered Severus. "I'm not imagining this? It's not a trick?"  
  
"I don't play those tricks," said Dumbledore. He pulled the other man close, soothing him with long sweeping strokes of his hands. "I would like you with me, forever if it pleases you. In my bed and my life."  
  
"But what about-"  
  
"The Ministry will not object," Albus said, "And if anyone else chooses to, why, I should have to laugh at them quite heartily." His eyes gleamed. "Now, I really do need a brief nap."  
  
Flabbergasted, Severus allowed himself to be snuggled and shoved into a more comfortable position.  
  
"Now do try to sleep," Albus said drowsily, "I plan to feed you the entire menu at Min's this morning, and you had better be up to it."   
Without another word, he clasped his arms around the potion's masters neck and began to snore.  
  
Severus stared at the sleeping man in wonder. 


End file.
